


Trust Fall

by gallantrejoinder



Series: take another breath [1]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Child Abuse, Extended Metaphors, Fakeout Makeout, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Pre-Canon, This makes it sound absolutely miserable but I promise there is also, Where Dirk's holisticness isn't just about solving crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22613989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallantrejoinder/pseuds/gallantrejoinder
Summary: Dirk had never come up with a better name for it than the"Other Thing,"capitalised and in italics for maximum ominousness. Maybe if he had ever trusted anybody enough to tell them about it, he would have been able to think of a better description, but -Well, that was just it. He didn't trust anybody with it. He doubted he ever would.Untangling how Dirk came to be was no simple task, even for himself.
Relationships: Todd Brotzman/Dirk Gently
Series: take another breath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627069
Comments: 31
Kudos: 74





	Trust Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains explicit depictions of child abuse and neglect, as well as references to an abusive romantic relationship. Detailed content warnings can be found in the end notes.

**_November, 2017_ **

“Okay, but how does it … work, exactly? I mean, what – what sets it off?”

 _When you look at me. When you smile, half-hidden in the corner of your mouth. When you proudly tell our most skeptical, irate, infuriated clients, without a shadow of doubt in your voice, that everything_ is _connected and we’re going to solve the case. When you believe in me._

 _You know, all the normal, unromantic times that a man is platonically cheered up by his best friend_.

Only, it definitely wouldn’t be doing to say all of _that_ , so Dirk didn’t.

“Happiness.” There, that was truthful enough. Oh no – Todd was giving him an unimpressed look. Damnit. Not specific enough. “I mean – _super_ happiness. When I’m – really, truly, deeply … content.”

“Huh,” said Todd, putting his hands behind his head, before lying back down against the flattened grass. Around them, a sudden wind sent the tall stalks rippling into waves of green and gold. “But there’s – there’s gotta be a method to it, right? I mean, when we were on the cliff, it seemed like …”

Dirk cracked an eye open just to shoot Todd a sideways _look_. “Todd, that’s never been how it works,” he scoffed. He didn’t need Todd overthinking what had happened on the cliff. The cliff was an embarrassing mishap from start to finish.

Todd had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m not – I don’t mean like that. I just … What kind of _real_ _happiness_ are we talking, here? Can you _just_ be content, or do you have to be … straight-up euphoric?”

“ _Euphoric?_ ” Dirk wrinkled his nose.

“Well shit, Dirk, I don’t know!” Todd sounded annoyed. “Euphoria’s one thing. Maybe you could do it on like, drugs or something?”

Dirk felt the earth beneath his back press heavily against him. “No,” he said, softly. “Drugs don’t affect it.”

It took a moment for the meaning of those words to hit, and when they did, Dirk heard Todd stop breathing for a moment. “Oh – oh, god, Dirk, I didn’t mean –”

“I know,” said Dirk, interrupting Todd before he could spiral into guilt and unnecessary-if-touching sympathy. “I know, _obviously_ , Todd. My experiences thus far in life have taught me that most people don’t drug you to wake up your magic powers. That’s a special skill reserved for the particularly evil!”

Todd rolled over to face him, but Dirk didn’t dare open his eyes again. The full force of a sympathetic Todd Brotzman gaze was more than he was able to handle at that particular junction.

“Yeah, well. Not surprising that the only way they could think of to make a kid happy was to drug him. Fucking psychopaths.”

Dirk sighed. A nearby mining tower’s shadow was beginning to chase the sunlight from his face. “Well, they didn’t do it at _first_. I imagine the kinds of uppers and downers they were putting me on weren’t all that cheap to produce, and it would have been difficult, trying to ensure I didn’t develop a dependency at the ripe old age of fourteen. At first, they just … It wasn’t _difficult_ to make me happy back then, once I got over being there. Riggins used to …” Dirk trailed off, before swallowing, forcing himself to continue. “He pretended to be my friend. It’s easy to feel happy in the presence of a friend.”

There was a long moment of quiet. The only sounds that filtered through were the faint buzzing of insects, and the distant hum of tourists chattering.

“I’m so sorry, Dirk.”

Dirk forced himself to open his eyes and face Todd, turning his head to look him in the eye. “Don’t worry about it too much, Todd. I know what a true friend looks like nowadays.”

There was a patch of sunlight on Todd’s face. Right over his eye – he was squinting, but the crinkles in the very corner came from the smile he was giving Dirk.

Dirk felt the weight of the earth at his back drop away in an instant, as if he’d become lighter than air. It always felt like that, when Todd smiled at him.

A distant honk startled him into looking up, and the weight of the world came rushing back. “Ah,” he said, trying to maintain an air of calm and control. “I’d love to continue discussing my childhood trauma – cathartic bonding, and all that – but I regret to inform you that the clown has once more returned.”

The blood drained from Todd’s face. “Great,” he said, faintly. “Guess we’d better get back to the case, then.”

**_May, 1999_ **

Having exhausted all other options with regards to the will of the Universe, the scientists wanted Dirk to focus on the _Other Thing_ , capitalised and in italics for maximum ominousness. Well, tough for them. Dirk had absolutely no intention of giving them what they wanted. And while that might have meant nothing when it came to what they called his “psychic causality,” but which he had begun to tentatively term the “theory of interconnection and _non_ -psychic universality,” it in fact did have quite a bit of bearing on the _Other Thing_ , which Dirk _didn’t_ have a name for, because he couldn’t think of one that would be useful in getting people to take his future career as a detective seriously.

Dirk’s will had rather a lot of bearing on whether or not he would do the _Other Thing_ , and he intended to use that will to the full strength of his ability.

Of course, it wasn’t _only_ Dirk’s will that allowed him to politely sidestep certain scientific laws. It could never be that simple for him, he’d long ago accepted that. But Dirk’s will was _part_ of it, at least. Dirk could easily make himself fall back into anger and resentment and a deep, hollow-boned loneliness. It wasn’t difficult, in Blackwing – he barely had to try. In truth, he only had to consider his predicament for more than five minutes to find himself the carrier of a very heavy heart indeed.

They could show him as many funny television shows as they liked. They could bring him small animals – kittens, puppies, and on one memorable occasion, a desperately sad-looking betta fish in a tiny tank. That had been one of their stupider ideas.

They could drug him. They’d tried that, once or twice. He hadn’t reacted well. A hastily cancelled experiment, like many that had come before.

They could even take him outside, which was, from their perspective, quite the gamble – who knew what “psychic causality” could set off in the outside world? Dirk, to the best of his ability, still wouldn’t budge.

(Oh, but it was close. Dangerously so. The sunlight against his skin, so different from the fluorescent lighting underground – the taste of the air, clean and crisp and the total antithesis of the stale, recycled air below – it almost worked. It almost made him feel like he was … free.

He got one look at the hopeful expression on the scientist’s face, and took a very deliberate step onto the grass of the military complex.

The scientist flinched.)

So yes, Dirk was a headache for Project Blackwing because of all the directions the Universe pulled him in, none of which worked well under the constraints of the scientific method. There was no procedure for measuring the whims of the Universe, no way to test them and bottle the results for tidy consumption by men in uniforms. But Dirk was also a headache because of the _Other Thing_. Another ability they craved. Another tantalising possibility of power, another chance to enforce their authority through control and domination. The things they worshipped above all else.

But the _Other Thing_ was the one thing in Dirk’s life that _he_ could control. To a point.

And therefore, it was the one thing which he _chose_ not to give them.

**_June, 2010_ **

It felt a bit like falling in love.

Dirk had fallen in love once so far in his life, and he’d fallen in _like_ more times than he could count. But the love … hadn’t worked out. He’d been fresh out of Blackwing, David had been fresh out of a homophobic family, and things had gotten toxic quickly. Still, there was a time, very early on, that Dirk went to absurd lengths to disguise his happiness, the freedom and light of a newfound relationship, lest that same happiness reveal his secret to David. He should have left that relationship the second the Universe started calling – and golly gee fuck, it most certainly did _that_ about two months in – but he didn’t.

It came as quite the surprise when David left instead.

Dirk didn’t do the _Other Thing_ for a while after that. It reminded him of love. How it felt to fall in it. The inevitable crashing and burning. Instead he drifted, aimlessly, more untethered than he’d ever been.

The problem was that for all Dirk _tried_ to form connections with other people, his relationships never really seemed to work out on a platonic _or_ romantic level. He did his best to keep up a cheery façade so as not to scare anybody off. A good first impression would probably help his cause. He’d be in with a better chance if he managed to sneakily befriend someone _before_ the point when the Universe came calling. Maybe they would stick around, even with all his myriad bullshit, if he was just friendly enough.

Yet Dirk remained unbound. He had considered the possibility that this was because of the “gay” thing on top of the other less conventional aspects of his life and personality, but somehow that didn’t quite fit. A number of queer bookshops, gay social groups, an unfortunate stint clubbing, and an actually-not-too-bad pride parade made it pretty clear to Dirk that being gay wasn’t really the reason for his isolation. There turned out to be a lot – a _lot_ – of sex involved in being gay, which Dirk hadn’t realised when he first started trying to join in on the fun, and so eventually … Eventually he decided it was best to just keep out of that whole scene for a while. He felt vaguely dissatisfied and not entirely sure as to why. These were supposed to be his people, but … somehow, they weren’t. Unfortunately that meant that the problem was almost certainly him.

In any case, it was probably for the best that he stayed away from the nice, happiness-inducing bits like the parades and books, due to his propensity to start doing the _Other Thing_ whenever he indulged. Dirk had already narrowly avoided exorcism by an overzealous priest in London in 2005. It would be quite a bad look for the queer community to have that happen again, not to mention the yelling and holy water.

It was to Dirk’s great surprise that he found, about a month after making the decision to withdraw from that particular community, a parade running straight into him.

He knew a sign from the Universe when he saw one. Evidently, there was something for him to do there. So it was with a suspicious heart that he walked into the throng of people, wandering wherever his feet took him. And yet, as he had several times throughout his life – though never as often as he would have liked – he soon began to feel as though he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Well, until he ran smack-bang into a person dressed in full medieval knight regalia, carrying a flag with stripes of white, green, grey, and black, and a cape of the same, with purple substituted for the green. It would not be the last time Dirk ran into a medieval knight, though he didn’t know that at the time, but this one turned out to be a much friendlier local by the name of Asim.

“I can’t apologise enough, mate,” said Asim, several minutes later, once they’d both established that neither of them needed to go to the hospital.

“Oh, well, you know – no harm done,” Dirk replied, waving his hands about in a manner that he hoped came off as reassuring.

“Look – let me buy you lunch, eh? They do these ridiculously fancy sandwiches at this place I know around the corner.”

Dirk wanted to say _no, thanks, not looking for a date right now_ – but then his stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since the night before. And so he grimly accepted his fate as a haver-of-dates for fancy sandwiches rather than romance.

Said sandwich place around the corner turned out to live up to the hype, sending out enormous American-style sandwiches which were a wonderful disgrace to the name of tea party cucumber sandwiches. Dirk attacked his food with ravenous enthusiasm, while Asim politely questioned Dirk about his life – how he’d come to Edinburgh (blimp), what he did for work (nothing, currently), how long he’d planned his outfit for the parade (he hadn’t, the rainbow raincoat had come from a kindly nun in Suffolk).

Still, at least the last question allowed Dirk to make his own contribution to the conversation.

“I’m afraid it rather pales in comparison to your outfit,” Dirk said mournfully, gesturing to Asim’s regalia. “I wish I’d come in something that cool. Ooh, are the colours like your coat of arms? Do you have a family crest?”

Asim laughed and shook their head. “No, I’m – it’s the asexual and aromantic pride flags.”

Dirk blinked. “Come again?”

Asim pointed at the green, grey, white and black flag. “That’s aromantic. Means you don’t feel romantic feelings for people, or – or maybe you just don’t want any kind of romance in your life? There’s different – anyway.” They then pointed to the purple, grey, white, and black cape streaming from their shoulder pads. “And that’s asexual. Means you don’t want sex, or you don’t feel that kind of attraction. Some people are either or, but I’m both. No romance, no sex! I … Er, are you okay?”

Dirk was not okay.

Or, it might be more accurate to say, he was realising for the first time that he might be okay after all. The conversation they had after that point was intense, enthusiastic, educational, and thoroughly enjoyed by all involved. Asim left Dirk later that evening with their number and a promise to call for entirely platonic support and advice.

And it was later still that night, on the roof of a private building that by all rights Dirk shouldn’t have been able to get onto, that he came to a profound realisation about himself.

It was not the first profound realisation he’d ever had – he really did have a lot of _things_ going on – but it was the first of his adult life, and the only one thus far that had led to him staying awake throughout the night, waiting for the sunrise, alight with a new and unexpected connection to the Universe.

In this, at least, he knew he wasn’t alone.

**_August, 2016_ **

He had never intended to lie to his future best friend. In fact, the number of things Dirk hadn’t meant to lie to Todd Brotzman about could probably fill a sturdy notebook. He was rather accident-prone in the fibbing and no-truthing department.

Unfortunately, the _Other Thing_ , as Dirk had never really stopped calling it, was not one of the things. Because Dirk had intended to lie to Todd about that from the beginning.

It wasn’t because he _wanted_ to keep lying to Todd. He’d told enough fibs already and he wasn’t comfortable adding to the pile. It was just that –

The _Other Thing_ was dangerous. The _Other Thing_ gave people a lot of control over Dirk, and told them a great deal more about him than he wanted them to know. If the _Other Thing_ was the only thing in Dirk’s life he had any control over, then so be it. He _would_ control it. It wasn’t as if Dirk spent all that much time in a state of genuine happiness anyway, so it was unlikely to get set off accidentally. Sure, he could be a ray of sunshine when he wanted to be – even a little bit too chirpy, or so he’d been told (not that he ever paid attention) – but Dirk had approximately no friends in his life, no stable home, and he’d been banned from more pubs than he cared to think about. His life was resolutely barren of love, scarce in companionship, and laughably absent of stability, all of which he’d been reliably informed were the key ingredients for happiness.

What Dirk didn’t see coming, however, was – well, Todd Brotzman.

Because Todd Brotzman had the potential to fulfil all those requirements and then some. Dirk had decided (definitely not out of a sense of long-held, desperate hope), to believe future Dirk when he told present Dirk that the wild-eyed, scrawny, blood-covered man at his side was going to be his best friend. And the wonderful hope of that statement was enough that it actually proved quite useful in helping Dirk break into Todd’s apartment, though admittedly, what happened next was less than ideal. Dirk generally brushed over that part when he thought about it for too long. No doubt they were off to a rocky start, but present Dirk had future Dirk’s word to go on, and he really couldn’t think of a reason for future Dirk to lie.

Although, of course … Present Dirk _had_ sort of begun the aforementioned best-friendship with a big fat whopper of a fib – a series of them, actually. Still, he reasoned that said lies were less lies than they were strategic no-truths, intended solely to preserve the time-space continuity, or something like that.

It really shouldn’t have worked out.

But it _was_ working out. It really, incredibly, was.

Todd did a fair amount of complaining and gave Dirk a reasonable number of wide-eyed stares of disbelief, and yes all right, towards the tail end of their fourth day in each other’s company, Dirk did start to lose his temper and his patience a little bit, sand quite possibly, shouting _we’re meant to know each other_ was showing his hand a little _but_ –

Oh, but _then_. Then Todd spoke.

“This neighbourhood,” he began, hesitating.

Dirk turned back to him, holding his hands close to his body, hardly daring to hope that Todd would finally see sense.

“The one we’re in right now. It’s called Springsborough. Like – like _Edgar_ Spring. That was Patrick Spring’s father, right?”

Dirk nodded, trying not to show that it felt like his heart was in his throat.

“Springsborough,” Todd repeated softly. “It’s not a coincidence, is it?”

“No. I’m certain we’ll find that it’s … not,” admitted Dirk. His heart was practically beating itself into an early grave, and it was all he could do to stay still and wait for Todd to understand.

And then of course Todd made a fundamental mistake. “You knew this was going to happen.”

“No.” Dirk was quick to correct him. “Not … _this_ , but … something _like_ this, yes.”

Todd’s voice almost broke as he spoke. His expression was frozen in incredulous disbelief. “It’s real, isn’t it? It’s all real. You really are what you say you are. Some kind of … holistic detective.”

Dirk ignored how thrilling that sounded coming from somebody other than himself. “I’m … trying.” _Don’t ever get your hopes up too high, Svlad_. “Is this enough proof?” He pushed himself to try again – always again, always just one more time. “Will you help me?”

Todd gazed at Dirk for a long time. Uncomfortably long, if Dirk was being honest. The strain of waiting was something Dirk was quite familiar with by now, but it wouldn’t take the sting out of things if Todd said no.

Finally something inside Todd seemed to break, and he sighed. “Okay,” he said, though his expression remained deeply troubled. “Yeah. Okay.”

And there were some words after that, Dirk was pretty sure of it, but they didn’t matter nearly so much as that soft, resigned, accepting _okay_.

It was enough to send him flying down the stairs in a daze, hardly daring to believe he’d done it – convinced someone of the truth _and_ kept them around. He was so buoyant with his own success that he didn’t even notice the man hiding in the shadows.

“Hello, Project Icarus.”

And just like that, he fell.

**_March, 1991_ **

“So, Svlad …” Mr. Riggins’ voice was as soft as it always was, and as icy as it had never been before. “I hear from Mr. Priest that you made it up onto the roof today.”

Svlad kept silent. The chair he was sitting on was smooth metal, hard and unforgiving. The table before him was made out of the same material. It didn’t dent, didn’t stain, and didn’t rust. That was what Mr. Priest said, anyway.

“That’s very unusual, Svlad. Do you know that?”

Yes. Of course he did. He’d tried getting out of the building _hundreds_ of times by now. But the building was confusing – it felt like a maze, with every turn Svlad took just getting him more lost. Eventually a grown-up would always find him and bring him back to his room. He never tried to get away from them. He wasn’t _sure_ if they would actually use their guns on him – Svlad didn’t even really understand if they were loaded, or how they worked – but he didn’t want to risk it. Not after the last time he ran.

Last time, Mr. Priest caught him.

Svlad continued saying nothing. He stared at the table so that he wouldn’t have to look at Mr. Riggins, sitting across from him. He couldn’t help but glance at Mr. Riggins’ hands, though. They were folded on the table, like he was just being friendly.

“Do you know why it’s unusual that you were up on the roof today, Svlad?”

Svlad hated the sound of his name when Mr. Riggins said it. “Please don’t …”

“ _‘Don’t’?_ Svlad, my boy. We’re talking about _your_ adventure, now. Could you tell me what happened?”

_There was a truck._

_Below the roof, back door swung wide – it was still in the process of being packed. A man came around to check on the contents inside, and he began to shout across the yard at someone Svlad couldn’t see. He walked over, away. The truck was open, and no one was watching._

_All he had to do was fall._

_That was easier said than done. A rolling blanket of grey covered the deep blue of the sky, so much so that Svlad for a moment wondered if he’d imagined it – the blue. The open air was so much colder than he remembered. Not like the air inside, recycled a thousand times to prevent even the tiniest atom from entering the compound. Or exiting._

_Svlad looked at the truck._

_Fall, he willed himself._

_But another voice spoke too._ Never in front of people, Svlad. Never where anyone can see. _Svlad didn’t think anyone could see him, but how could he be sure? Mama always said to be sure._

_He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, right down into his belly. He kept his eyes closed. If he could forget where he was, then, maybe …_

“I went up to the roof,” said Svlad, hesitantly. He was telling the truth. Just the truth. Mama always told him not to lie.

 _Just the sound of the wind in his ears, his heart beating faster and faster. He could do it. He_ could _._

“How, Svlad? How did you get up on the roof?”

_Climbing to his feet. The feeling of the world below him. Dropping away like dead weight._

“I don’t know. I just wandered around … The doors weren’t locked. I never go in the locked doors. You said not to.”

“I know, Svlad.” Mr. Riggins sighed. “I know.”

_One step, and then another. He was going to do it. He was going to fall – and be free. His heart leapt into his throat, and he laughed._

“Well? What happened next, Svlad?”

“I …”

_It always felt the same, the instant that it finally happened. The moment that Svlad became weightless._

_The moment he flew._

_He stepped forward, and below him lay thin air. He opened his eyes. He looked down._

“Should I tell you what I think happened, Svlad?” Mr. Riggins’ voice was very, very soft now. It was almost exactly how he used to speak to Svlad, before they’d come to America. But Svlad could hear it now – the way it wasn’t quite real. The way Mr. Riggins said the same words over and over again, until they went stale and stopped meaning anything.

Svlad remained silent.

“I think … I think that you went up onto the roof because you wanted to go away. Didn’t you, Svlad?”

_There was nothing but air._

“Most boys who wanted to run away wouldn’t go _up_ , though, would they? Ah, but not my Svlad. You’re a clever boy, aren’t you?”

_Nothing but the sound of the wind in his ears._

“Very clever. I always said so. So you went _up_ … because you can do something other little boys can’t do, and you were clever enough to go to the perfect place to do it. Yes?”

Svlad didn’t speak. 

Mr. Riggins’ voice sharpened suddenly. “ _Yes_ , Svlad?”

Svlad nodded.

“Good – good. Yes. Well, you went up onto the roof, and you walked over to the edge – and you did something quite incredible, Svlad. Mr. Priest told me he’d never seen anything like it.”

Svlad balled his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms. The metal chair was warm against his legs, no longer cold like ice and painful on his skin.

“He told me that he saw you way up in the air – floating as happy as a little cloud. Svlad, I’m sure you know how remarkable that is.”

When Svlad had opened his eyes, he had been stupid enough to look down.

There on the ground. Mr. Priest, aiming a gun at him. That was what had done it. That was what had made him –

“And then, of course, my dear boy – you fell.”

Svlad remained silent. 

“That must have been very scary for you.”

No. Falling wasn’t scary.

“It was very lucky that Mr. Priest was there to catch you.”

That was the scary part. Svlad never knew where he would land.

Mr. Riggins sighed again. “I’ll tell you what, Svlad. I can see you’re feeling very tired from all your adventures today. I bet you want a good night’s sleep. How about we try again tomorrow?”

Svlad didn’t want to try again tomorrow. He wanted to go to sleep and wake up in his mama’s house. It would be all right if she shouted at him. She always cuddled him after.

Mr. Riggins seemed to realise that Svlad wasn’t going to answer him any more. He got up from the table and went to the door, but paused for a moment. Svlad tensed, unsure of what was coming.

“You don’t like it when I use your name, do you, Svlad?”

Svlad flinched. He couldn’t help it. Mr. Riggins said it so much. Like it meant something very important.

“How about we try a new name, hmm? What do you think about the name Icarus?”

Ick-ah-rus. Svlad had never heard that name before. He didn’t like it. It sounded like _ick_. Like something disgusting.

“Icarus. We’ll try that.” Mr. Riggins smiled. “Good night, Icarus.”

**_November, 1987_ **

Mama always told him that the first time he flew was also the first time he smiled.

She told him the story over and over again. Sometimes smiling. Those times she told the story in Romanian. Sometimes in bitter regret, ‘ _for a son like you_.’ Those times she told the story in English.

Dirk, much later, wouldn’t remember how to speak Romanian. The story he remembered was forever painted in English.

“You were in your crib,” she said, faintly accented. “You were always so fussy. Just like now, in fact. Always screaming through the night. Always hungry.”

Svlad put his head down, feeling a hot ball of shame in his belly.

“And then one afternoon, you were lying in your crib, and it was a terrible storm outside. Rain and thunder and lightning. You liked the storms, but oh, Heaven forbid your poor mama get up in the middle of the night for a cup of water …”

Svlad felt very angry with himself as a baby. When he was a baby, he hadn’t yet learned how to take care of his mama. She didn’t like yelling. You had to be careful with mama. She was angry sometimes. Or sad.

“But the storm. You liked the storm very much. The rain started, and you settled, always very fast. There was a great wind, blowing outside the window. And you smiled. It was very nice for me, for a minute. But you always have to test your mama. You smiled so wide and happy, and then, next thing I knew, you were on the ceiling!”

She would laugh sometimes, at that part. Other times she would fall silent.

On this occasion, she sighed. “And that was that, Svlad. Trouble from your first breath.”

Mama never told Svlad how she got him down from the ceiling.

Years later, Dirk would wonder. He tried not to think about it too much.

**_August, 1993_ **

“Hello.”

Svlad jumped about a foot in the air, and not from a sudden burst of joy.

“Who’s there?” he demanded.

His voice sounded braver than he felt, which was probably a good thing. He hoped the scientists weren’t doing an experiment, but the chances of that weren’t high. They _had_ just locked him in a room with a wooden chair and turned off the lights, after all, and as much as it sometimes felt like they were just torturing him for the fun of it, that wouldn’t be very _scientific_ now, would it?

“I’m not sure,” came the voice, soft and dreamy, as if the speaker was very sleepy. “A man called me Mona last time.”

Svlad realised that the voice seemed to be coming from a child. They didn’t sound much older than him, but he couldn’t see in the darkness. “Hello … Mona,” he said carefully, trying to avoid angering them. “Erm … I’m … Svlad?”

“Svlad? That’s a funny name.” Mona laughed.

Svlad frowned, even though privately he wasn’t a big fan of it either. “It’s the only one I’ve got, so …”

“I have a lot of names,” said Mona, sounding thoughtful. “But I like Mona best. You should pick one you like!”

At that moment, a bulb in the ceiling flickered into life, casting a single stream of light into the room – down upon the head of the mysterious Mona.

She was a girl – or seemed to be, at least. About Svlad’s age, with pale skin and dark hair covering most of her face. Her eyes peeked out through her fringe, brown and curious.

Svlad looked up at the ceiling bulb, then down to the girl. “Did you do that?”

Mona cocked her head. “I wanted to see you! You’re very small.”

“Well, so are you,” Svlad said, a little annoyed now.

“I can be big. See?” Without any warning, Mona did – _something_ – and suddenly, there was an adult woman standing before him. “I think I’m not supposed to be this for a little while, though,” said the woman, in a voice just like the girl’s.

Svlad gaped at her. “How – how did you _do_ that?” He felt vaguely queasy, like he had witnessed something he wasn’t supposed to, with the way she transformed. It wasn’t … _right_.

She kept smiling in a terrifyingly friendly manner. “I’m an actress.” Mona did the – _thing_ again, and was once more a girl. “I can play any character you want!”

“I don’t think actresses are supposed to do that,” said Svlad doubtfully, before remembering that he should probably be on his guard – who knew what awful powers the girl had? Svlad had once been locked in a room with an old man in a coma who bored him to tears. “Or … I mean … Actresses are supposed to _pretend_ to be things, not _really_ be them.”

“But I _can_ be them,” said Mona, wrinkling her nose as if Svlad had said something very silly, “so that’s what I do!” She twirled and curtsied, like a mechanical doll. Svlad found himself smiling, even though he still thought Mona was probably an experiment they were doing on him.

For the first time in many months, he felt a tingling in his toes. His face went hot and cold with terror as he looked up to see the camera in the corner watching him, and the tingling went away instantly.

“What do you do, Svlad?”

“Pardon?”

Mona blinked curiously at him. “I said, what do you do, Svlad?”

Svlad opened his mouth and shut it, then opened it again. Before he could answer, the door burst open, and a scientist entered – escorted by a man with a gun. Her face was filled with excitement and confusion. It was a look Svlad was familiar with.

Yet when Svlad turned his head back towards Mona, there was only a wooden chair once more.

“How did you do that?” the scientist demanded, annoyed.

Svlad sighed before glumly giving the same answer he always did.

“I don’t know.”

**_July, 2017_ **

Todd was funny, was the thing. He had a sarcastic, deadpan sense of humour, and a wicked ability to snark on extremely annoying people that left Dirk in fits of laughter. Sometimes when it wasn’t a very good idea to laugh – in fact, very frequently when it wasn’t a good idea to laugh. Todd seemed to come at life in the agency from the perspective of someone who’d seen worse, wasn’t impressed, and wasn’t afraid to say it.

Although, actually, he did have a tendency to get twitchy about the daily banalities of running said agency, keeping an eye on Dirk included. The first time Dirk mentioned not having seen a dentist in about sixteen years, it might actually have caused a stress-induced pararibulitis attack, although Todd insisted it wasn’t related.

(He did make Dirk go and get several fillings, though. All of which the dentist said Dirk was getting fixed just in the nick of time. Todd had been present, and made a face like he wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or grateful. Dirk didn’t dare reference the will of the Universe – this was the kind of will which came with a hefty sum of money owed.)

But the point was – Todd was funny, which meant that Todd made Dirk _laugh_.

And that was absolutely horrible, because the chances of Dirk managing to continue their friendship for very much longer without Todd discovering the teensy tiny fact that Dirk could fly and had one hundred percent intentionally lied about it from day dot were narrowing by the second. And _that_ was a significant threat to their friendship, Dirk could be sure of that.

That was the other thing. Todd Brotzman had once been a liar. It stood to reason, therefore, that the one thing he hated in others above all else was lying. The longer Dirk went without just telling him, the more the lie grew, and Dirk suddenly found himself highly sympathetic to Todd’s whole fake-until-proven-real-pararibulitis situation.

Unfortunately, Dirk had actually had a pretty good reason to lie about his _Thing_. The thing which, in an act of astounding regression and betrayal, his brain had again taken to calling the _Other Thing_ , capitals and italics included. Dirk’s mother’s warnings about being taken away by the government might have come true for entirely separate reasons, but still, there was a significant difference between holistic interconnectedness, which he couldn’t control and wasn’t his fault, and the _Other Thing_ , which he absolutely controlled in order to lie about it, and therefore, possibly … _was_ entirely his fault. Dirk had no way of knowing how _Todd_ would react to knowing that Dirk had a whole other _Thing_ on top of his already quite significant _things_ , _and_ that Dirk had lied about it, _and_ that Dirk actually did have some measure of control over it yet had never used it for anyone’s benefit but his own. Telling Todd was a thought which Dirk continually shied away from, when he wasn’t outright panicking in the middle of the night about it.

Farah didn’t know either, of course. Dirk felt quite bad about that too. Farah was one of his best friends, and if not for her, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency would be naught but the distant fantasy of a vagrant without any friends. Plus, there was the fact that Dirk’s _Other Thing_ might have come in handy more than once in a tight spot – and Farah would never say no to a potential addition to their arsenal of ways to solve cases and fight off bad guys. Farah would probably see Dirk’s _Other Thing_ as quite useful indeed.

But then, as close as they were, and as happy as Dirk was to have friends – Farah didn’t put Dirk in danger of revealing the _Other Thing_ nearly as much as Todd did. So Dirk didn’t spend quite as much time obsessing about it around her as he did around Todd.

Really, the only person – sort of – who Dirk didn’t worry about outing himself to was Mona. The reason for that was quite simple – Mona _already_ knew. Hard not to, with all the time she’d spent with Dirk in Blackwing, whether or not Dirk knew she was there. On top of that, she was rarely in the form to tell anybody what she knew anyway. 

So … Todd. Todd was the one Dirk spent the most time worrying about, when it came to the subject of the _Other Thing_ and its potential reveal, sooner or later, by accident or by purpose.

Because, as Dirk had once observed, flying felt like falling in love. Dizzying heights of unearned delight would sneak right up on him, and for a little while he would become convinced that he’d never touch the ground again. What followed would usually entail a series of sudden short drops, and then, inevitably, a painful and disorienting crash.

The crash was never again as devastating as it had been with David, but Dirk had definitely had more than one of them. And Todd seemed to have a knack for triggering the _Other Thing_ that even David hadn’t, back in the early days, or Richard Macduff, in the … well, the few days Dirk had managed to spend in his company full stop. Being around Todd put Dirk in very great danger of floating away into the atmosphere in a haze of bubbles and butterflies – especially when Todd _smiled_ ; that hidden thing in the corner of his mouth that he always tried to repress. Or even better, even rarer – when Todd was really and truly elated, and a gap-toothed grin spread across his whole face. That smile very nearly undid a lot of lies with its sheer radiance.

Dirk could be oblivious to a lot of things. He’d been made quite aware of that fact over the years. But even he wasn’t foolish enough to remain unaware of the fact that what he felt when Todd smiled at him had a name, and it wasn’t ‘friendship.’ Quite frankly, Dirk was tempted to call it “the Problem” or “Whoopsie” or “Not Again,” but that wasn’t fair to Todd – it wasn’t his fault that Dirk was being greedy on top of lying.

In his more generous moments, Dirk thought that maybe it wasn’t really his own fault either, that Todd made him so happy. Maybe it was all right to imagine things being different.

Still, that didn’t exactly prove helpful when Dirk dropped like a stone in response to Todd walking in on him daydreaming about some completely nonsensical romantic situation. It wasn’t the best of circumstances for Dirk to be doing such a thing – he was in the middle of the office, in the middle of the afternoon, and more importantly, in the middle of a case.

“Todd! Hi!” Dirk greeted him a tad too enthusiastically, preparing a thousand excuses very rapidly as he tried to look like someone who’d _intended_ to end up in the middle of Farah’s desk. “How – erm, I wasn’t – are you – don’t you just love a good ol’ spot of meditation in the afternoon?”

“Hey Dirk,” said Todd, looking up from his phone at last. Oh, Dirk was an idiot. Todd hadn’t even been looking.

Todd narrowed his eyes at Dirk, now deliberately sitting cross-legged, like a normal, casual person who hadn’t been floating a metre above the ground ten seconds ago. “What have you done?”

“ _Done_? What have _I_ , Dirk Gently, _done_? Todd, that is, in all honesty, very hurtful of you to say. Coming in here and making scurrilous, not to mention _baseless_ accusations against your best friend. Anyone would think you didn’t trust me.”

“No,” Todd said, moving towards him with an oddly swoon-inducing look of suspicion on his face. Dirk promptly excused the butterflies in his stomach as the result of lunch, and definitely _not_ the result of being the object of such an intense gaze. “You only ramble that badly when you’ve done something. And you’re sitting on Farah’s desk. If you’ve messed up her case index again, she’s gonna kill you, and I won’t stop her.”

Dirk pouted. “You wouldn’t?”

Todd stopped directly in front of the desk and cracked a grin. “Well, couldn’t.”

Dirk was almost silly enough to bask in that smile for a moment, before he froze and grabbed onto the edge of the desk, anchoring himself to Farah’s no-nonsense Ikea furniture with the iron-clad grip of someone far stronger and more warrior-like than himself. Panto, maybe. Now there was a man who’d never get caught up in a situation like this. Why couldn’t he be more like Panto?

Dirk hoped Todd wouldn’t notice his sudden panic-and-grab, but – alas, no such luck.

“Okay, no, really, what are you doing?” Todd was back to suspicion, and this time it definitely wasn’t swoon-worthy.

“Nothing! _Nothing_. I’m, er. Contemplating the case. How … how the Komodo dragon got onto the skyscraper in the first place.”

Todd crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows – a clear sign he didn’t believe Dirk’s story. Damnit.

“Okay. Sure. What have you got, then?”

 _Think fast_. “Tiny lizard aeroplane.” _Too fast!_

Todd didn’t even bother arguing the point. He just gave Dirk an unimpressed _Look_.

Dirk shrugged, like he’d meant to say the bit about the lizard aeroplane. “Perhaps … not that, then?”

Todd snorted. “Yeah, no shit. Lizards can’t fly, Dirk.”

“Right. Right!” Dirk laughed nervously. “Exactly, Todd, you’ve got it in one. Komodo dragons, like many non-flying creatures including the vast majority of lizards, and, in fact, human beings, _cannot_ fly. This is why I keep you around, you know. You always know the most sensible thing to say.”

Dirk clutched the edge of the desk extra tightly just in case, despite the fact that he was mostly feeling a mixture of panic and embarrassment. Feeling a little silly doing that, he folded his hands in his lap in an attempt to look normal – but judging by the way Todd was slowly shaking his head, it didn’t work.

“Just when I think you can’t get any weirder, you do. How do you manage that?”

“Practice. Although I’m told it can be very off-putting to potential clients.” Both Farah and Todd had spent time working on what Farah called his ‘bedside manner,’ to no avail.

Todd smiled again, leaning with his palms against the desk. Oh no. Todd was very close now, and Dirk had absolutely nowhere to go but up. “Well, _I’m_ told that potential clients are at the whim of the Universe and there’s nothing we can say or do to convince them. Including being polite.”

Dirk wrinkled his nose, leaning back just slightly so that he wouldn’t become entirely overwhelmed by his proximity to Todd. “I don’t recall anyone saying anything of the sort. Certainly not me. I’d never be so … bossy.”

“Sure,” said Todd, and his eyes flickered down for just a moment.

Dirk was suddenly seized by the sensation that something very important was about to happen. A tingling sensation in his toes threatened to send him skywards with simple anticipation – it felt almost like a hunch, but _better_ , like … Like …

Todd cleared his throat and leaned back, and there was a shift – almost certainly unconscious – in his whole demeanour. His shoulders seemed to shrink, and his arms hung stiffly at his sides. “Um, so – anyway, Farah just texted. She thinks she found a lead, something to do with the haunted coffee grinder? I don’t know. But – we should, uh, go deal with that.”

Dirk couldn’t help but feel that he’d missed something important.

But as that wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling to him and they _were_ in the middle of a case, he put it aside, to be examined and dissected at another time.

“Right you are, Todd,” he said, swallowing his disappointment with a smile. “Excellent assisting.”

**_September, 1985_ **

Svlad knew that he wasn’t supposed to fly in front of other people. Mama told him that if people saw him doing it, they would take him away and put him into prison. She told him, _never in front of other people, Svlad. Say with me. Never in front of other people_.

Svlad was very careful. Mama showed him how to grip the bottom of a chair so that he wouldn’t float away if he was in a good mood. She told him that if he couldn’t hold on, or he was standing up and there was nothing to grab, he had to imagine the bad people taking him away and putting him in a prison. He had to imagine them dragging him away as he kicked and screamed, and he had to imagine his mama all alone in their house, crying and crying because he was gone. If he imagined it hard enough, it would make him sad. And that meant that he would sink into the chair, heavy and safe again.

But there would always be a next time. Because flying was _fun_.

Svlad loved it when he felt himself beginning to float. It would start very small – sometimes he would be giggling, or flapping his hands, or just … very, very tired, right down to his bones, but safe at home in his bed.

(Mama tucked him in sometimes. If they had had enough for breakfast and lunch and dinner, not just breakfast and dinner, or just dinner. If the heater was on. If the Tube wasn’t too crowded. Those were the things that made Mama happy.

Lots of things made Svlad happy. Really fast music, and bright colours, and fireworks. The sky. The sun on his skin. Great gusts of howling wind.)

Svlad knew he was especially happy when he began to feel a tingling in his toes. That meant he was getting lighter. He tested it once, on their heavy bathroom scale. Mama said that if the pointy thing went one way, it meant he was heavy, and if it went the other way, he was light. When Svlad began to feel his toes tingling, the pointy thing went the way that meant he was getting lighter.

Slowly but surely, the tingly feeling whooshed through his heels, and then his feet would leave the floor. It was like whatever it was that stuck him to the floor just rushed out of him, like a long piece of elastic was cut – and then he was off!

Svlad couldn’t fly very high if he was only a little bit happy. Most of the time he just floated about, his feet a metre off the floor at most. When he was especially happy, though – that was the best kind of flying. The _best_ kind of flying was the best because he could swoop around, and do flips, and walk on the ceiling, and –

Well, he didn’t know what else he could do. He wasn’t even sure how high he could go. Mama didn’t let him fly unless he was inside the house and all the curtains were closed. Even then, she didn’t like it when he walked on the ceiling, because the neighbours above them might hear and ask questions.

But Mama wasn’t always home. She had to go to work, so Svlad stayed in the house most of the time, and that was the best time to fly, even though he missed her. Svlad flew all around the house, all day long, and when he heard Mama coming down the hall, he sank, slowly, to the floor.

**_December, 2016_ **

Childhood kidnapping and resulting trauma leading to years of unending loneliness aside, Dirk had actually gotten very lucky in some respects throughout his life. Case in point: neither Farah Black nor Todd Brotzman, founding members of Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, had figured out that Dirk could fly. They had had more than enough opportunities for Dirk to trip up and reveal that very fact. Actually, it was a little disconcerting how close Dirk had come to being outed on that front. He was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that the Universe was trying to tell him something, and he didn’t care for it in the least.

Firstly there was the whole reuniting post-second-kidnapping fiasco. Dirk later on couldn’t believe how badly he’d buggered that one up. He hadn’t been thinking straight – hadn’t been thinking at all, really – when he fell out of the car boot and into a field containing Farah, Todd, and a whole new case. He’d just been … so _happy_ to see them. Elated, a little disbelieving, but still, entirely overcome with the joy of finding his friends and being found in return.

Farah had just stood there, mouth hanging open in shock, which Dirk definitely didn’t blame her for considering the circumstances. But _Todd_ – Todd had begun to shriek like some kind of overexcited small dog, a terrier perhaps. He jumped up and down, yelling incoherently, and all right, he did look a bit like a lunatic, but he was so clearly, completely _consumed_ with joy at the sight of Dirk that … Well, Dirk couldn’t help it. He might have _meant_ to run across the field to Todd and Farah, but that wasn’t what happened.

He flew. Right into Todd’s arms.

And Todd had, quite impossibly, spun him around, anchoring him to the Earth while still holding him up, keeping him close. It had been nice. It had been a lot more than nice. It had been a memory worthy of replaying, night after restless night, in the following few weeks – when Dirk started to wonder whether he was worthy of Todd and Farah’s friendship after all.

The police, luckily, showed up before Todd and Farah could regain their senses and notice that Dirk wasn’t touching the ground. Actually, Hobbs rather conveniently gave Dirk enough of a fright that he connected very thoroughly with the ground for some time to come.

Later, Todd and Farah would explain that they’d been up all night following a rabbit to Dirk’s location, and they’d been on the run for a good couple of months, so they were pretty exhausted in general, _and_ they’d both been so overcome with relief at finding him that any sense of propriety or dignity had gone right out the window. From that, Dirk could surmise that whatever they _thought_ they’d seen in that field, they had very handily put down to sleep deprivation and hysterical relief. Lucky for him.

Luckier still was the whole reunion in Wendimoor. (They really had to stop getting separated.) On that occasion, Todd and Dirk – and Amanda, of course, who’d apparently become quite a badass since Dirk had last seen her – barely got a few relieved words out before being interrupted.

“I knew you’d show up,” said Todd, a manic grin on his face at the sight of Dirk tearing off his executioner’s disguise.

“Really?” Dirk felt quite pleased, and couldn’t hide it as he helped Todd down from the execution platform. It seemed like rather a gruesome way to go for a child’s imaginary world – but that was the _point_ : Todd wasn’t going anywhere. Dirk had saved him, and Amanda. _And_ he was going to solve the case, he knew it – it was only a matter of time.

His toes were beginning to tingle.

“I accepted it as a possibility,” admitted Todd.

“Oh!” Dirk grinned, feeling a little bashful. “Good!”

Amanda clapped him on the back, and the next thing Dirk knew, the three of them were hugging – Todd and Amanda holding onto him like he was family too. Dirk didn’t think he’d ever been hugged by two people at once – it was quite a lot to process, but definitely a good lot. All three of them were giddy with relief at having avoided the execution, and more than happy to see the Rowdy Three – another new feeling for Dirk. It was enough, _more_ than enough, for Dirk to politely sidestep the laws of gravity, feet hovering a few centimetres off the platform even as Todd and Amanda’s arms kept him from floating any further.

Of course, the very sharp blade which appeared next to his face a moment later killed the mood somewhat, but given how close Dirk had come to taking off completely, that was for the best.

He survived the fight just fine, thank goodness. As it turned out, Prince Silas was as skilled at fighting as Dirk was – which was to say, not very skilled at all.

Another close call. Another incident avoided. It did occur to Dirk that maybe it was a three strikes kind of deal. Maybe he only had one more chance before the Universe forced his hand.

Dirk continued to labour under that delusion until about two months later, when the agency finally opened.

There were a number of dangerous sights to take in on that particular day. Farah securing the office and adjoining flat, tutting about needing new locks – Todd unpacking endless boxes of their belongings, making a new home – Mona settling in behind a plant – and of course, the sign finally going up. _Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency._

It felt as if it was only a matter of time before they found Dirk on the ceiling.

He held tight to Farah and Todd’s shoulders, looking at the sign for the detective agency, _his_ agency, desperately hoping he wouldn’t start to float away, helplessly buoyed by seeing the dream of his life come true before his eyes.

And he didn’t tell them. A dream was right there in front of him. The thought that it would be snatched away at the last second – _again_ – was too much to bear. So he buried the secret. He kept his silence, and smiled, and held on tightly, lest everything slip from his grasp.

**_October, 2017_ **

“Farah,” Dirk said carefully, “I’m guessing that _this_ is a situation in which it would be appropriate to use the phrase ‘status report.’”

Farah shot a flat look at Dirk. “In a manner of speaking,” she muttered, shifting carefully where she sat. A few small stones, disturbed by her movements, decided at that moment to ominously disappear over the side of the tiny ledge. “We’re … stuck on an outcropping, about five feet by five, about thirty-five feet above the water, and the tide’s coming in, as well as a storm. By my estimate, we’ve got about thirty minutes before it hits full force –”

“You are _so_ good at maths. How can you be this good at maths when we’re –”

“– alongside tidal waves which will almost certainly wash us off this ledge and into the water below. On top of _that_ , our phones got fried by your banshee friend –”

“Hey! I told you, she is _not_ my friend. Most of us didn’t even see each other in Blackwing!”

“– and. Todd’s out of medication.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Far,” said Todd, grimacing. He pulled his feet a little further from the edge, wrapping his arms around his knees.

 _Yes, thanks_ , Dirk didn’t add aloud, because Farah was probably their best bet at getting out of there and he didn’t want to make her angry.

“Well, that about sums it up!” In an attempt to remain cheery, Dirk clapped his hands together, intending to rub them vigorously as if coming up with a very clever plan to get them all out of there, but the sudden movement caused more small stones to fall over the edge, so he quite reasonably shrieked and grabbed Todd’s hand instead. Todd shot Dirk an alarmed and perhaps slightly annoyed look, but he didn’t take his hand back, for which Dirk was immeasurably grateful.

“Stay _still_ , Dirk!” Farah was frozen, arms outstretched to stop him from moving any further. Her eyes were wide with terror, and she was breathing quickly, as if to hold back a panic attack.

Dirk was beginning to suspect that she hadn’t yet figured out how to get them out of their predicament.

“I’m a rock,” he said, clutching Todd’s hand like a lifeline. “A marble statue. I couldn’t move if you threw me through a window. You don’t happen to have any idea how to get us out of this, do you, Farah?”

Farah’s mouth opened and shut again. “I, uh …” She glanced around desperately, as though the answer would present itself, if only she were clever enough to spot it.

Her eyes landed back on Dirk.

“I’ve got nothing,” she admitted. She stared up into the sky, looking as if she wanted to say something else, before crumpling – burying her head in her hands, muttering to herself. “Stupid, _stupid_ little … always getting stuck, _idiotic_ …”

“Farah, don’t say that,” Todd interrupted, before she could really get into the swing of it.

Dirk nodded vigorously. “Yes, it’s definitely not helping. _Ow!_ ” Todd elbowed Dirk (cautiously, given their predicament, but still). “I mean – it’s not true, _and_ it’s not helping.”

“Okay,” Farah said, sniffing a little. She took a deep breath and raised her face from her hands. “Right, yes, sorry.”

They sat in silence for a long few moments, contemplating. Dirk carefully looked over the edge, into the roiling sea below. It was a murky and opaque danger, rising towards them even as he watched. As far as metaphors went, Dirk thought that was one of the Universe’s lazier ones.

Todd sighed, sounding defeated. “Can’t say I thought it’d end like this,” he murmured, staring into the horizon. “Although, actually, it’s not the weirdest situation we’ve been in, so ...”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dirk watched Todd, still holding fast to Dirk’s hand. A sudden gnawing sensation in his stomach was slowly making itself known, and though he knew what it meant, he was very much dreading having to confront it.

Their phones were dead. Farah did not have a way for them to get off the cliff. There was a storm coming in, so they didn’t have time to wait around for help. And they were very, _very_ high up. There was only one way out. One way for them to escape, and one way for Dirk to guarantee for good that his detective agency would remain no more than the memory of a dream.

Farah made a vague noise, evidently in agreement with Todd’s nonchalant statement of certain doom. Dirk glanced nervously at her, but her eyes were on the horizon, and the coming storm.

He looked towards it, stomach churning with anticipation and fear. Grey mountains on the sea, a distant roar – waves and wind and lightning all gathered together, ready to destroy them. Wasn’t it always that way?

It _would_ always be that way. He’d known that from the start.

He thought about Wendimoor. About how hard he’d tried to keep everybody safe. How he’d failed.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” said Todd.

“No, I mean …” It was Dirk’s turn to groan, though his was perhaps a little more theatrical and extended than Farah’s.

“Dirk?” He Farah shift her body around to face him. “What … what are you thinking?”

Todd squeezed Dirk’s hand, as if to encourage him to speak.

Taking his hand back was an almost physically painful action – Dirk couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever be afforded the privilege again. He folded it into his lap, and was very careful not to look at anything else.

“So,” he began, before giggling nervously, and then making a face of disgust at said giggle. He had to be normal about this. “The thing is – well, look, Blackwing was quite – and you know, even before that, my mother was a very … erm, secretive woman, so I really haven’t … spoken about this before, in so many words. And Mona, she – well, she found out on her own, so it’s not that I trusted her more than you, or, or anything –”

“Dirk.” Oh dear. That was the ‘you’re in trouble’ voice. Dirk’s least favourite of Todd’s voices. He turned to see Todd giving him a look more thunderous than the oncoming storm. “What. Are you. Trying. To say.”

Dirk turned to Farah for support, but she was looking equally unimpressed. Ah, well. It was worth a shot. He opened his mouth and shut it again, searching for a way to say it – a way to put into words the secret he’d kept since his childhood, the secret that had only ever been forcibly dragged from his lips in the past, a part of himself he’d become thoroughly ashamed of in every way.

“I can fly,” he said, simply.

There was a long moment during which neither Todd nor Farah said anything. In the distance, lightning lit up the sky.

“E-excuse me? Is that – a metaphor?”

Dirk felt Farah staring at him, but he didn’t dare look up.

“You …” Todd trailed off. Dirk _did_ glance up at him, but Todd just looked confused, like he hadn’t quite heard Dirk.

“I,” said Dirk, very quietly, still looking at Todd, “can fly. Float. Hover. Whatever you want to call it, I can …” And now it was his turn to trail off, as he processed the look on Todd’s face and recognised it for what it was.

Betrayal.

Dirk looked back down at his hands. He’d always known Todd would be angry when he found out that Dirk had lied, but to be confronted with the depth of how _hurt_ Todd was – that was far worse.

“You can … fly,” Farah said, flatly.

“Yes,” Dirk answered quickly, to show that he was fully intending to tell nothing but the truth from then on.

“And you … haven’t mentioned this before.”

Dirk winced. “Ah, no. As … as I mentioned, in Blackwing, they were extremely observant, so that was – a bust, keeping it from them, I mean. Although, much like the holistic interconnectedness of the Universe, they were never quite able to control it. And before that, my mother was very insistent upon keeping it a secret, in case I got kidnapped by government agents, which – well, joke’s on her, haha! Erm. Mona’s the only one who knows outside of Blackwing, and only because she used to spy on me while I slept. In, _in_ Blackwing, obviously. I was having this really good dream about a being a detective, see, and –”

Farah held up a hand, motioning for Dirk to shut up. Dutifully, he fell silent.

Todd still hadn’t spoken. Dirk felt the absence of his hand, and wished he hadn’t pulled back.

“You can fly,” Farah stated, calmly. “Okay. Sure. Why not? But why … aren’t you doing it … now?”

“… That’s … not how it works.” Dirk knew he sounded defeated. But as that was how he felt, then … so be it.

“It’s like holistic interconnection? You can’t control it?”

Dirk could practically hear the gears turning in Farah’s head as she tried to think of a way out of their situation. He was way ahead of her, of course – the problem was that there just _wasn’t_ a way to make him fly when he’d just broken his best friends’ hearts. He simply couldn’t imagine being happy again after seeing the look on Todd’s face when he’d told the truth.

“I _can_ control it,” he admitted. “Sort of. But it … er, it’s not … likely to happen in our present situation.”

“Why?” Farah narrowed her eyes, leaning in, forcing him to look up at her. “Is it – Dirk, I don’t want to be rude, but if I was ever going to interrogate you about _how it works_ , now would be the time, so …”

 _So start explaining_. That was the implication, anyway.

Dirk felt his shoulders tense of their own accord, unhappy at the thought of being interrogated, asked questions he didn’t know how to answer about things which were inherent to his very being. A sharp wind hit the cliff a moment later, and he shivered from the chill of it. Right, on a time limit here. He owed them the full truth.

“I fly when I’m happy,” he said, clenching his fists. “That’s about as simple as I can make it. When I’m – happy, honestly, just _happy_. I float off, I can’t even control it unless I just – make myself sad again. And as I’m feeling incredibly guilty about leaving it until now to tell you, and as we’re in life-threatening danger, which is typically considered quite scary, I’m not going to be able to do it any time soon, so just – don’t ask me to, please. I _can’t_.”

“Dirk …” Farah sounded so disappointed in him.

Dirk closed his eyes, terrified of what was coming next. Beside him, he felt Todd draw in a breath, no doubt to finally speak and tell Dirk how angry he was.

“You’re a good detective, Dirk.”

Dirk opened his eyes.

“What?”

He turned to see Todd looking at him like he was – like he was a case Todd had to crack. “I said, you’re a good detective. And – and you –”

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much it means to me that you have faith in me,” Farah blurted out. Dirk swivelled around to face her. He was going to get dizzy if they kept doing that. “You’re not just a good detective. You’re a good friend. And I – I, um. Care about you.”

“What are you doing?” Dirk asked, weakly.

“Farah’s right. You’re a good friend. I – I know you lied about this, and I’m not gonna pretend, that’s …”

Dirk’s stomach dropped.

“… That _sucks_ , and I’m … kinda hurt, to be honest. Okay, I’m – really hurt. But it’s understandable. Especially if you’ve been doing it since you were a kid. You said your mom made you do it, right?”

Dirk nodded.

Todd’s expression melted into something horribly understanding, his eyebrows knitted into an expression of concern. It was making things very confusing for Dirk’s stomach.

“Then … I get it. I really do.”

Dirk was aware that his face was probably doing all sorts of things without his permission and revealing much more than he meant to, but then, he’d never even begun to consider that Todd, after getting over the initial shock of Dirk’s lie, might actually forgive him.

“Plus,” Todd said, glancing behind Dirk at Farah, “you know, your hair is looking incredible today.”

“Oh, yes,” Farah added. “I – I’ve been meaning to ask how you style it so well, it’s, um …”

“Cool. The coolest in the agency.”

Dirk blinked, looking back and forth between Todd and Farah, who were both watching him earnestly. “No – hang on, why am I the one falling behind here? That’s not how this works.”

“Well, you know,” Farah began, sounding desperate, “you spent – so much time convincing us to join the agency –”

“A week,” Dirk muttered.

“– and we just thought, uh …”

“It would be a good opportunity to let you know how much we appreciate it.” Todd’s voice was firm and sure. “How grateful we are, and … how much we … how much we care about you.” The wind was picking up now, doing something horrendous to Todd’s hair. But he just kept looking at Dirk with an expression like … like Dirk was the most important thing in the world.

Dirk’s heart did something stuttery and vaguely nausea-inducing. “You’re trying to make me happy,” he whispered.

Todd winced. “Um, yeah. But I’m – we’re not lying, okay? Promise.”

“Life-threatening situation aside, we are telling the truth,” Farah added hastily. She held up a hand again, as if trying to calm a skittish animal.

“And, you know … Even if it doesn’t work, at least …” Todd swallowed. “At least we can all be honest right before dying, right? Like, if I had to die with two other people, I guess I’m kinda glad it’s with you guys?”

Dirk stared at him. They were about to die, and yet Todd and Farah’s only thoughts were focused on being open about how much they cared about him – whether it worked to save them or not.

They loved him.

More importantly, they _forgave_ him.

“You know,” Dirk began, rather faintly, “I think you’re right. And if it comes down to it, I must admit that I … I care about you too.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the year. Hastily, Dirk moved on. “But you know, you did tell one fib.”

Todd furrowed his brow. “What was that?”

“My hair isn’t the coolest.”

Todd laughed. “Okay, yeah. That one goes to Farah.”

“Really?” Farah sounded genuinely surprised. She reached a hand up to touch it before second-guessing herself and awkwardly lowering it.

“Yeah. You’ve got the best shriek, though, Dirk,” Todd teased.

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot.”

“I dunno, Todd’s is pretty funny too,” Farah laughed.

The wind chill was really beginning to pick up. A gust of it sent a spray of fine mist into Dirk’s face, and he felt a stomach-dropping bolt of fear run through him.

“Best punch goes to Farah,” Todd said suddenly.

“Best pizza-place-hunting to Todd,” Farah countered. “And – best cat-wrangling to Dirk.”

“That was one time!”

“But a memorable one,” said Todd. “Best jackets is definitely you.”

“Yes, well – best – best _smile_ goes to Todd,” Dirk said, feeling bold. He could barely feel his toes from the cold.

“Best laugh is yours, then,” Todd said softly.

Dirk looked at him, wondering. Almost forgetting Farah was even there. Almost forgetting the warning gale whipping around them.

“Oh my god,” Farah whispered. “Dirk, you – you’re actually –”

“Flying,” Todd breathed.

And so Dirk was, to his surprise. He was floating several inches off the ledge now, and rising every second with the realisation that he was off the ledge at all. “Oh,” he said, delighted. “I think … Farah, Todd … I think we’re not going to die?”

Todd let out a hysterical whoop of laughter, staring up at Dirk with a wondrous expression in his eyes. That look alone was enough to send Dirk up several more inches.

Farah visibly breathed a shaky sigh of relief. “Okay,” she called through the wind, grinning. “Great – Dirk, you’re gonna have to be quick, though, okay? Go and get help. We’ll wait here.”

Dirk laughed. “Don’t need to. Grab on.” He reached down a hand for each of them, and puzzled frowns appeared on both their faces.

“Dirk – we’re way too heavy,” said Todd, exchanging a glance with Farah.

“Yeah, that’s not a good idea,” Farah said, shaking her head. “You can’t lift two full-grown adults. You’re not Superman.”

Dirk grinned, slowly.

“Oh,” he said nonchalantly, “didn’t I tell you?”

**_February, 1998_ **

“Psst!”

“Hello, Mona.” Dirk didn’t attempt to disguise the flatness of his mood.

Mona gasped, delighted. “How did you know it was me?”

“Bugs don’t usually turn into teenage girls and start _psst_ -ing at me.”

Laughter rippled through the air, in that sort of hyper-real way Mona often vocalised, as if she was simply copying what she thought a girl should sound like. Dirk’s lips twitched, despite everything. It _was_ rather endearing. Not much seemed able to penetrate Mona’s armour of dreamy calm.

He felt his mattress dip, just behind his shoulder. “I thought you could use a friend,” said Mona softly.

She resorted to poking him in the shoulder when he didn’t respond immediately.

Dirk frowned to himself and pushed his depressingly thin pillow a little further under his head. He tried to control the way his voice trembled when he spoke. “Y-yes, well … couldn’t we all.”

Mona poked him again. “Can we go flying together, Dirk?”

Dirk sighed and opened his eyes, staring at the blank concrete wall of his room. _Cell. Not room_. He had to stop getting confused. He was going to get out, just … “Not today, Mona. I’m not really feeling up to it.”

“Why not?”

Dirk bit his lip, trying not to feel resentful. It wasn’t Mona’s fault that she could avoid being experimented on and he couldn’t. And apart from an old man in a coma, she was his closest friend.

“I’m not happy enough,” he said, which was being as blunt about it as he could without being rude.

“Oh.” Mona sounded deflated. Judging by the weight being removed from Dirk’s mattress, she might actually have deflated. “But you can be happy again, right? After a while?”

In theory. In theory, Dirk could be happy again. Happy enough to fly. But he’d been telling himself for _years_ that he’d one day be free of Blackwing, and yet … he was still there. The future appeared to only hold more of the same, year after endless year. Until they gave up and tried drugging him again, which, at this particular junction, was almost … almost tempting. Maybe this time he’d just black out instead of … what happened last time.

Dirk’s thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sudden feeling of a bug crawling up his neck. He yelped and flailed about, trying to brush it off.

A giggle erupted by his ear and he threw himself out of bed. “Mona!” He scrambled to his feet and twisted around, trying to find her. “Stop that! It’s not funny!”

He spotted a single white feather floating down from the ceiling, buoyed by invisible currents of air, and glared at it accusingly. “I said I’m not in the mood.”

The feather only drifted innocently before disappearing into a speck of invisible dust. Dirk narrowed his eyes, knowing Mona was probably planning something – she’d never really understood the concepts of ‘don’t,’ ‘not today,’ or ‘we’ll get in trouble.’

Another tickling sensation, this time along his arm. He looked down to see the feather once more, its edge brushing lightly along his forearm. He snatched his arm back.

“That’s not going to work! Mona, _really_ –” Another tickle at the back of his neck. He shrieked and slapped his skin on instinct, which hurt a bit, but also forced a laugh out of his lungs that he’d been holding in for thirty seconds at least. “Mona!”

But the dam had broken. Mona tickled him repeatedly, first an ankle, then his back, then his arm again – until he couldn’t stop laughing and was begging for a reprieve. Somewhere between all the forcibly induced laughter, and despite the terrible day he’d been having, Dirk found himself … really and truly happy. No sooner did he realise that fact than he felt a familiar sensation rush through him, and his feet began to lift off the ground. He heard a gasp of delight, but when he turned, Mona was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, you are in such trouble when I find you!” Dirk said, but he was still fighting back giggles as he swivelled around in mid air, trying to catch a glimpse of her. Mona could be completely invisible if she wished, of course – who would spot a speck of dirt on the floor, or a cobweb in the corner? – but times like this, that was the game. She’d give him just enough clues to find her, and he always, always did.

He looked up, spotting a particular stain on the ceiling that hadn’t been there before. Grinning, he jabbed a finger right at it and cried, “Gotcha!”

In an instant, the stain materialised back into a girl – a girl who had forgotten she couldn’t fly as a human being. She only had time to blink owlishly and open her mouth to say, “How did you –”

 _–_ before Dirk’s eyes widened, and he yelled, “Mona!”

“ _– Oof!_ ”

They didn’t fall.

No, despite the full weight of a teenage girl crashing down into a flailing heap on top of him, Dirk, remarkably, didn’t drop to the floor at all. He sank a little from fright, but Mona’s infectious laugh sent such a shockwave of relief through him that he was immediately buoyed once more.

“That was close! Next time I’ll do something _really_ clever.” Mona crossed her arms on Dirk’s chest, seemingly content to lie on top of him for the time being.

Dirk blinked at her, suddenly realising the situation they’d found themselves in – him, mid air, and her atop him, somehow floating _with_ him in human form. “Mona … How are you _doing_ that?”

“Doing what?” Mona frowned. She didn’t like being questioned about her methods any more than Dirk did – they didn’t really have methods, was the thing, and Dirk knew that, but ...

“You don’t weigh _anything_ ,” Dirk explained, before pushing himself upright and grabbing her hands to prove it. She swung down below him, hanging onto his arms, but she barely weighed a thing – it was like holding onto a couple of pillows, and he easily lifted her again. She held onto his shoulders and smiled pleasantly at Dirk before clambering around onto his back.

Despite her less-than-conventional approach to personal space, Dirk felt excited as Mona hung happily onto his shoulders. He’d never gone flying with someone before – not like this. When Mona flew with him, it was because she could _become_ flying things, from model aeroplanes to birds to fruit bats. She’d never done it in human form before.

And Dirk had never thought it was _possible_ to fly with someone else – he’d always assumed that the other person would be too heavy and pull him down. At least, that had always been his experience before, with Mama, and Blackwing.

“I don’t think I’m doing anything,” Mona said, sounding perfectly calm, as she often did. She pulled on a lock of her hair and began to tickle his nose with it.

Dirk sneezed, screamed at the unexpected sound of that, and a quick wrestling match took place (to Mona’s great amusement) before he managed to find his balance again, back to the ceiling, Mona holding on with one hand to his ankle. She hung off him with a peaceful expression on her face, like it didn’t cause her any strain at all.

“And that! How are you holding yourself up?”

Mona looked up at him blankly. “It’s not _me_ , silly. It’s _you_.”

“No it bloody well is _not_.”

“Is so. I feel all light and feathery, even though I’m not a feather right now. But it’s only when I’m touching you. See?” With that, Mona let go of his ankle, only just stopping herself from dropping to the floor like an unwieldy sack of potatoes by transforming into a paper plane at the last second.

Dirk stared at her. He felt himself sink a little, ill at ease with the possibility being presented to him.

He would have known. Surely, he would have known, long before then, if he could do what Mona was suggesting. He couldn’t – he couldn’t extend his flight to others. He’d only ever been able to fly by himself, high above the heads of those who loved him. Always caught, when he fell, but never able to take anyone with him.

He rolled over in the air, resigned to his descent, feeling the mattress dip below his back as he landed.

“Dirk? I thought you were happy again.”

“I was,” Dirk explained, trying to be patient, even as his heart began to race with fear. “I – I didn’t know I could do that. It’s …”

“Cool!”

“What?”

Mona crossed her arms and put them on the mattress, sitting her chin atop them – evidently having decided to remain human for the moment. “We can go flying together all the time now, and I won’t have to be a parrot if I want to talk to you!”

“But – Mona, if they find out, we’re completely screwed!”

“They won’t find out. They never find out when I visit you, haven’t you noticed?” Mona looked quizzically at Dirk, as if he was being rather stupid.

“Of course I’ve – but this is different! What if – what if this time they _do?_ Mona, they already spend all the livelong day trying to make me predict things and notice things and – and _fly_ , and if they find out I can take someone _with_ me …”

“But you would never take them with you, would you? Flying is just for friends.”

 _Flying is just for friends_. That was the pact they’d made, a long time ago. Just for the two of them and no one else, at least no one who they didn’t both agree was good enough to be a friend.

Well, now that promise had to be a little more literal, Dirk supposed.

“Right. Yes. Flying is just for friends.”

Mona smiled. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I won’t let them find out.”

Dirk looked at her in the darkness and knew she wasn’t kidding. “I know.” He sighed, hoping he would be able to keep his promise – that she would be able to keep hers.

Rolling over, he looked her directly in the eye. “Hey, Mona?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to go flying?”

Her answering grin was enough to push him back into the air.

**_October, 2017_ **

“Dirk?”

“Yes, Todd?”

“How the hell are you going to land?”

“Oh.” Dirk laughed nervously, and hoped Todd and Farah couldn’t hear it past the wind. “Er, well, that’s … that’s actually the tricky bit.”

**_November, 2017_ **

“So,” said Todd, once he’d caught his breath post clown-chase, “basically. What you’re saying is any kind of happiness will do? A little faith, trust, and pixie dust?”

Dirk wrinkled his nose. “What? Todd, don’t be ridiculous. Pixies aren’t real.”

“It’s a – you know what, never mind.” Todd shook his head, but Dirk thought he looked at least a bit fond, so Dirk wasn’t in real trouble.

Todd pushed off the brick wall of the alley they’d ducked into. The wall was covered in fake old-timey advertisements for Gold Rush-era miners, as well as notices about upcoming school holiday education programs for the youth of Los Angeles. Some of the buildings in this part of the open-air museum were the genuine article, relics of a bygone era, but this one had been constructed especially for the museum. Hence the large air-conditioning unit Dirk and Todd were hiding behind.

“Come on,” Todd sighed, jerking his head towards the exit. “Let’s go, before the clown finds us again.”

“Or security,” Dirk supplied helpfully.

Todd grimaced. “Or them. God, you could’ve told me how much running there is in this job before you hired me.”

“ _‘Hired’_ you?” Dirk grinned. “Todd, do my ears deceive me? Are you admitting to being an employed assistant of Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency?”

“Partner,” Todd said, pointing at him before letting his arm flop to his side, evidently too exhausted to bother holding it up. “We’re not having this argument again. And you didn’t answer me. About the, you know, happiness thing. _Any_ kind of happy will do?”

Dirk followed Todd like a cat in booties that was nursing a serious grudge about it. _Partners indeed_.

They emerged onto the main street of the fake town and narrowly avoided being bowled over by a horse-drawn carriage, thanks to Todd holding his arm out and stopping Dirk in his tracks.

“Look, it’s – it’s really not that complicated,” Dirk said, once the carriage had passed. “Happiness is a pretty straightforward emotion.”

“But anything can make you happy,” Todd argued as they continued towards the exit gate. “Or – not anything, just. A pretty wide variety of things. Like, if you found something really funny and you started laughing, you’d probably float, right?”

“Sure, although –”

“But if you were laughing because you were hysterical or upset, you’d stay put.”

“Yes, that’s what I was just about to –”

“And what about, like, feeling – peaceful?” Todd almost looked embarrassed by the suggestion, but pressed on. “Like, if you were having a really good day – but not amazing or anything, just … good. And you felt really calm.”

Dirk shrugged. “Well, yes. It doesn’t happen very often – at least it didn’t used to. It happens a bit more nowadays.”

“Really? How come I never walked in on you, you know …” Todd made a vague gesture with his hand which Dirk took to mean ‘floating around the office in a daze of contentment.’

“Ah. Well, to be honest, you did. Or almost did. On more than one occasion, actually – I’m amazed you didn’t catch me. Thing was, as soon as you or anybody else walked in, I got such a fright I usually dropped like a stone then and there, so that was that.”

“Huh.” They’d finally reached the exit gate, and for a few moments they kept silent by mutual agreement not to draw any more attention. The Universe only knew how long they had before the employees discovered what had been done to the underground mine cart tour.

They reached the parking lot, and Dirk swiped a pair of car keys that had been left on the ground with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Apparently, they were going to need a quick getaway after all.

After searching for the car the keys belonged to – a very fancy thing, so Dirk was pretty sure the owner would be able to replace it should anything happen – they quickly drove away from the museum, and it was only once they’d been on the highway for a good twenty minutes that Todd spoke again.

“What about love?”

Dirk cleverly avoided crashing the car by freezing in place, his hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the last blueberry-white-chocolate-chip muffin on a Sunday morning at the corner bakery.

“Pardon?”

Todd sounded a little more uncertain when he spoke again, almost embarrassed. “I … I guess I was just thinking – if you felt … If you had butterflies in your stomach, that’d be way more literal for you.”

Dirk let out a strange sort of half-laugh, half-hiccup. “Right, yes. That would be one way of putting it.” He really hoped Todd was going to drop the subject. If the Universe owed Dirk anything, he was willing to put it all towards making Todd Brotzman drop the subject of flying and love in relation to one another.

“And …” Nope, Dirk wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. “If you had feelings for someone, wouldn’t that be obvious?”

Dirk stared ahead at the traffic, concentrating on the road better than he had done in years. “Oh, I … I suppose it would be.”

“Right. Yeah.” Todd sounded even more hesitant now, as if he was trying to tread very carefully.

Scratch getting Todd to drop it, Dirk was willing now to put it all on the line if Todd would just come out and _say_ whatever it was he meant to say.

“Have you … I guess you would know from experience, right?”

 _Do I ever_ , Dirk _didn’t_ say out loud.

“Er.” There. Much more eloquent.

“Right – sorry – don’t worry about it. I wasn’t trying to – it’s your personal business, Dirk.” Todd’s voice wound tighter and tighter as he spoke, like a guitar string one mis-timed strum away from snapping.

Dirk squeezed the steering wheel. “No, I – I do,” he blurted out, trying to reassure Todd. “I have – experience, with that kind of thing, that is. And it has historically tended to be quite obvious. At least I thought so. I mean, nobody ever seemed to notice the … the _flying_ , but then, nobody’s ever known about it in the first place.”

“Right,” Todd said softly. “But – if they did know. It’d probably be really … obvious.”

Dirk swallowed. “Yes, I expect so. Even … Even since telling you and Farah about the whole business, I’ve been …”

“Walking around on the ceiling, yeah, Farah mentioned.”

That startled a laugh out of Dirk. “Exactly! I don’t really have to work so hard to hide it around you and Farah. So yes, I think it’s – it’s probably a lot more obvious when I’m …” _Desperately, deeply, dreadfully in love._ “… in a good mood, these days. At least to you two.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Todd let out an oddly flat laugh, as if he was trying to find something funny, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I guess I’ll have to keep an eye out. See if you start floating around any good-looking clients.”

And then, strangely, Dirk found himself making the exact same flat note of a laugh, because he didn’t find it a very funny joke either.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said quietly. _Not while you’re still around._

If nothing else, Dirk could at least be grateful for the fact that it was unlikely he’d ever end up in a situation like with David, where physical touch – even intimacy – made it almost impossible to hide how affected Dirk truly was. Where all the normal, physical symbols of love and adoration made Dirk feel lighter than he’d ever experienced before.

**_January, 2018_ **

“Kiss me.” Todd said it in such a determined tone of voice that Dirk was entirely prepared to agree to the request without question, until his brain processed the meaning of the words.

He stared at Todd, a nauseating mixture of _you-can’t-possibly-have-just-said-that_ and _god-yes-I’ll-kiss-you-any-time-you-like_ rising up through his chest like a wave of polluted seawater. “What?”

Todd cast a desperate glance behind him, into the seedy darkness of the nightclub they’d run through before ducking into a discreet hallway off the main room. Dirk followed his gaze, seeing hundreds of people packed into the room, most of them swaying in place, drinking, or otherwise occupied with discovering via tongue the state of their dance partners’ adenoids. It wasn’t a particularly noisy venue – it seemed to be going for a sort of speakeasy jazz club thing, unsurprising given the case they were on.

“Dirk!” Todd’s voice made Dirk snap back to attention. “There are, like, a _dozen_ extremely angry historical reenactors dressed as _fake_ nineteen-twenties mobsters with _real_ guns about to come through that door and end us both if we don’t blend in. Kiss me!”

Dirk sputtered, trying not to blurt out the fact that he’d dearly love to do that, but were these _really_ the best circumstances?

“I mean – I – Look, I’m not, against this idea per se, but it definitely seems more like something I’d suggest in a moment of panic and you’d immediately turn down with a better plan, so it’s just – quite a bit to process, and –”

“Yeah?” Todd’s gaze focused in somewhere over Dirk’s shoulder as he began to back up against the wall, while Dirk stood awkwardly, trying not to panic. “Great, process it, because I’m going to kiss you now.” Todd reached out, grabbed Dirk’s collar, and before Dirk _could_ process what was happening, pulled him into a somehow-despite-many-warnings- _still_ -unexpected kiss.

Dirk could still hear the sounds of the club behind him, electroswing music mingling with glasses clinking, murmuring voices broken up by the occasional raucous laugh. He felt vaguely sweaty and a little out of breath from their sprint immediately prior to entering the club, which was definitely less than an ideal sensory experience. And he thought he could smell cigarette smoke lingering in the stifling air, worming its way into his lungs.

But somehow, all of those physical sensations faded completely as he became lost in the feeling of Todd’s lips on his. For a moment, Todd simply held fast to him, pressing their lips together in a startling tableau of his own impulsivity – but then his hands moved, coming up around Dirk’s neck to cradle his head and pull him closer. Dirk felt himself making a sound, somewhere between surprise and _oh, yes – please, more_. Dirk put his hands against Todd’s waist, holding onto him, trying to ground himself in reality – in the knowledge that it wasn’t real, that after all this time and never a sign of it, Todd couldn’t _possibly_ want him like this –

Todd ran his tongue along Dirk’s lower lip, and Dirk thought, a little light-headed, _Oh, but he’s very good at pretending he does_. He took the gesture as an invitation to respond in kind, his hands involuntarily clenching the fabric of Todd’s shirt, rucking it up just enough to run his fingernails over Todd’s skin. Todd made a noise of his own that tapered off into a low sound of want as Dirk began to kiss him back in earnest, stroking Todd’s mouth with his tongue.

A part of Dirk was trying to warn him about something, something to do with great heights and sudden drops, and lies, and what happened to boys who flew too close to the sun. But he pushed it aside, a lingering frustration finally bursting into dizzying action by dismissing his guilt as easily as air.

It rushed giddily through him, the knowledge that he was kissing Todd – that Todd was kissing _him_. Perhaps the circumstances weren’t ideal. They might have been interrupted at any moment by a gang of murderous historical reenactors. Admittedly, they were only kissing because of said murderous historical reenactors, but even as the sharp pain of that shot through Dirk, it was easily tempered by the way Todd bit down softly, before tracing his tongue over the spot, as if to soothe, like Dirk was something precious.

He gasped against Todd’s open mouth as he felt Todd tug on his hair. Todd’s hand slid down along the back of his neck and over his shoulder until it came to rest on his chest, and for a long moment, they breathed each other’s air. Dirk didn’t dare open his eyes, hoping against hope that Todd would pull him back in and kiss him again.

Of course, Todd didn’t. The moment passed, slipping quietly away from them as the sounds of the club returned to assail Dirk’s ears. He opened his eyes to find that Todd was staring at him, something in his expression that Dirk couldn’t identify. Dirk waited for Todd to say something – anything, ranging from the fairly certain (‘the bad guys are gone’) to the less likely (‘that was disgusting, never kiss me again, and I quit being your assistant’) or even the impossible (‘let’s forget the whole case and go home and kiss more’).

But Todd kept staring, and it was making Dirk nervous. “What?”

Todd paused for a long moment, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Uh, you … Dirk, you’re – kinda –” He gestured vaguely behind Dirk.

Dirk twisted his head around, perplexed – but it only took a moment for him to realise what had happened. “Oh,” was the single syllable he managed to squeak out, before sinking back to the floor like a stone.

Because while Dirk’s head and shoulders hadn’t gone far, anchored by Todd’s hands, the rest of him had apparently been so consumed with kissing Todd that he’d begun to float almost horizontally in the air. His legs stuck out behind him like two giant red flags broadcasting to the entire world the fact that he was irrevocably and completely in love with Todd Brotzman, and kissing him had possibly been the most dizzyingly happy experience of his life, even under life-threatening circumstances.

Todd cleared his throat. Dirk looked very carefully at anywhere but Todd’s face, feeling shame curdling in his stomach.

“I, uh. I think the fake mobsters are gone. I’m not sure – I don’t even think they came in, actually, so we – um, we should probably get out of here.”

Dirk nodded, unable to bring himself to speak. _Well done, Gently. You’ve really fucked it up this time_. There was no way Todd could possibly misinterpret what had just happened.

What Dirk had done.

“Okay,” Todd said, and his voice sounded softer, less panicked. “Okay,” he repeated, more certainly. “Let’s go.”

**_June, 2013_ **

“And _that_ ,” Dirk finished, with a dramatic flourish, “is why I will _never_ be loved.”

Thor Erikson, a large Scandinavian man with kind eyes and a mean right hook, stared at Dirk for a moment – before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Dirk made an offended noise.

This only seemed to increase Thor’s mirth. “Oh, Dirk,” he laughed. “What a strange little man you are.”

“A strange little – excuse _me_. I’m not the walking Scandinavian cliché, here.” Dirk crossed his arms sulkily, before panicking and grabbing onto his oar, lest it slip into the ocean. Thor might have been doing most of the rowing, but still. It wouldn’t do to be seen intentionally sabotaging their escape from the French.

Thor shrugged. “I do not mind being cliché. Maybe I am holistic, like you.”

“What, a holistic _Scandinavian_?”

“Is not any stranger than holistic detective.”

“Fair point,” Dirk conceded, though still annoyed.

Thor reached over and grabbed Dirk’s oar. He gave an almighty stroke, and the canoe shot forward, bolstered by having Thor take over.

“But that is difference between you and me, Dirk,” Thor said thoughtfully, barely breaking a sweat in the sweltering heat of the noonday sun. “I am comfortable in myself. So I am a cliché. So what? I am tall and have big muscles, and thick accent, and my name is Thor Erikson. Very big stereotype. Still, many people find this attractive.”

Dirk glared at him. “Yes, well, first off – you’re not _that_ muscly, so calm down. I could row if I wanted to. And second off, all those things are just … _normal_ things. The only weird thing about you is that you’ve got so many normal things going on at once.”

“Also, the fact that I am actually Russian.”

Dirk tried to think of something to say to that, but mostly he just felt thoroughly flabbergasted and a little betrayed.

Thor laughed again. “Ah, you see? You complain no one cares about poor old Dirk. Well, you did not take time to know me either. You are so busy in your head, Dirk. You should try to know other people more.”

“I do try,” Dirk said, sulkily. “It’s just … nobody ever sticks around for long. It’s my life. Following the whims of the Universe. It’s a lot to ask, you know … to have someone to take that on, just for … me.”

Thor shook his head. “No, no. Still thinking about yourself!”

Dirk suddenly felt very small. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

“Ah-ah,” Thor said sternly. “Not this either. You are good man, Dirk Gently. I do not mean you are selfish. I mean you are too in your brain. You think you are unloveable. But you have much to offer the world. Only, you do not let the world love you back. Always a little far away, even when you are very cheerful. And you are always _very_ cheerful.”

The canoe had really gained some speed now. Dirk toyed with the hem of his jeans, contemplating, while Thor continued rowing. “You’re … you’re saying I need to open myself up to the possibility of love, before I can find it?”

Thor made a thoughtful expression. “Yes. But also, no. You are very open to possibility already. Whims of Universe, as you say. Is more about … trust. Learn to trust something other than Universe. Love is promise, not feeling. You make promise, they make promise. Trust in promise, that is love.”

“Oh.” Dirk looked towards the horizon, thinking. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.” That was an understatement. His last relationship had been defined by how it made him feel – whether he was controlling his happiness in order not to reveal his secret, or miserably stuck on the ground when they fought.

Thor nodded. “See? Am not just incredible body-builder. Am very wise also. You listen to me more, we won’t end up in canoe in middle of the ocean.”

“It’s not my fault the French have a hereditary hatred of the English,” Dirk grumbled. “If I could disguise this voice, believe me, I would.”

Thor shook his head, but he was smiling, like Dirk amused him. “Ah, well. At least you make good rowing partner.”

“But I – I’m not even rowing anymore.” Dirk gestured helplessly at Thor’s biceps, then snatched his hands back, feeling that Thor didn’t need the ego boost.

“Rowing partner not just for rowing, Dirk,” Thor said, kindly. “Didn’t we just have this talk?”

Dirk blinked. “Oh. Oh!” He nodded vigorously. “I get it now. Company is as valuable as skill in times of distress. And you have to trust that your partner knows what they’re doing.”

Thor nodded. “Good. Now, pick up the distress flare by my feet. I can see my grandmother’s ship in the distance, and I am not going to be enjoying explaining this to her.”

**_January, 2018_ **

“Don’t – do that.”

Dirk froze, hand still clutched around the doorknob to his room.

“I … I mean – ha, that’s my thing, right?”

He didn’t turn around, but he could hear the strain in Todd’s voice. It could have meant a lot of things, that small quaver. Could have meant, _Dirk, never kiss me again_. Could have meant, _Dirk, I’m leaving the agency_. Could have meant, _Dirk, I can’t be your friend after this. You know that, right?_

“Like – running away. Hiding and not talking about it. Y’know, that’s – my thing. Or it used to be.” Todd paused for a moment longer, while Dirk’s brain screamed at him to hide. “Dirk? Please, just – turn around?”

Dirk had never felt so small as he did when he forced himself to turn and face Todd. He didn’t know what he expected to see – Todd’s anger, perhaps, or his derision. Even his hurt, that Dirk had … taken advantage, and then refused to face up to what he’d done.

He didn’t expect the heartbroken understanding in Todd’s eyes.

“Dirk,” said Todd, softly. “I’m not angry. You know that, right?”

“I.” Dirk’s voice was stiff. He forcibly relaxed his shoulders. “… Knew that.”

Todd wrapped his arms across his chest, looking self-conscious. “Is that – what you think of me? That I’d be angry with you for – what happened?”

It felt like the short gap between them in the hallway had lengthened into a distance of many miles.

They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since they’d left the club and splurged on getting a taxi home. Dirk had seen Todd texting Farah, presumably letting her know that her hunt through all the local craft supply stores was likely a red herring and to come home. Dirk was surprised that she _hadn’t_ come home yet, actually.

He’d also assumed that Todd would want a buffer when he let Dirk down easy and told him his very obvious feelings were not reciprocated. Judging by the pained look Todd was giving him now, that might not be the case. This seemed to be the kind of conversation that was better done without witnesses.

“I – I would understand if you were.”

“Dirk, that’s not – Jesus, _really_?” Todd sounded incredulous.

Dirk tried not to flinch, but apparently wasn’t successful. Todd took a step forward, looking guilt-stricken.

“God,” he whispered. “I always feel like I’ve learned the full extent of how badly people have treated you and then you say something and I … It feels like, just, learning how shitty your life has been all over again.”

“Sorry.”

“It – it’s not something you _apologise_ for, Dirk. And – I should know. About things to apologise for.”

Dirk watched Todd’s face, struggling to interpret his expression. Todd seemed to be cycling through a lot of emotions, but the more he tried to explain them, the more confused and nervous Dirk became. Even if Todd wasn’t angry, as he claimed, he definitely wasn’t _happy_.

Todd stepped forward again, and Dirk managed not to flinch this time. _He’s not angry with you_. Todd was definitely _something_ , but anger had been eliminated alongside happiness. Which left … rather a lot of options still, but – if Dirk knew one thing, it was this: Todd would never hurt him.

Todd sighed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, like he needed something to do with his hands. “Um, look, I just … want to talk about what happened because I … I don’t want to make assumptions.”

It was all Dirk could do not to burst into laughter at that. Whatever assumptions Todd was making about Dirk, they were, in all likelihood, true. But … Todd was trying to talk about it. They were _supposed to_ talk about things like this, that was what friends did.

And talking went two ways. “What … assumptions might those be, out of interest?”

Todd came closer, looking about as apprehensive as Dirk was feeling.

 _Nervous_. That was the expression on Todd’s face, the one Dirk hadn’t been able to identify. But why be nervous, if he wasn’t upset with Dirk for kissing him – if he didn’t plan on letting Dirk down easily?

For the first time, Dirk felt something like hope spark deep inside him.

“I … assume that …” Todd cleared his throat. “Kissing me made you – happy?”

It felt like a sudden drop, hearing Todd say the words. _Kissing me_.

Dirk _had_ kissed him. Dirk had kissed him _thoroughly_. Under false pretences, no less. Dirk was an awful person.

But Todd wasn’t angry – Todd was nervous. As nervous as Dirk, perhaps, and – for the same reasons?

Ridiculous leap of logic there, but then, wasn’t that Dirk’s whole M.O.?

“That,” he said, trying to calm the rush of mingled fear and excitement that was setting his whole body off-kilter, “… would be a reasonable assumption.”

“I know.” Todd sounded frustrated with himself rather than Dirk. “But – I don’t want to make assumptions. Not about what makes you happy. Especially when – you know, you … you’re so good at hiding it.”

Well, Dirk certainly wasn’t expecting _that_.

“Good at …?” He laughed bitterly. “Todd, nobody’s ever accused me of being _subdued_.”

“No, I mean …” Todd’s hands flexed at his sides, as if he was struggling to explain himself. “You’re good at hiding when you’re _really_ happy. ’Cuz you have to be. But you – didn’t hide it. Before. During the – um, in the club.”

Ah. “Couldn’t,” Dirk corrected him, before he could overthink it.

Todd seemed to freeze imperceptibly, like he was holding his breath, unsure of what he’d heard. “What?”

“I … I couldn’t hide it.” And now it was Dirk’s turn to step forward, hardly daring to believe he’d be welcomed, yet unable to put down hope. “When you – when we … Todd, it’s been my experience that there are … some kinds of happiness that can’t be denied.”

They were very close now. Inches apart. And still Todd looked up at him, rooted to the spot. “Such as?”

“Such as …” Dirk forced himself not to look away. “Such as kissing someone you’ve been in love with for months. Maybe longer. Maybe – well, erm, the length of time doesn’t matter, really, it’s all just a matter of –”

Dirk didn’t get the chance to explain himself properly, because Todd, for the second time that day, seized the lapels of his jacket and pulled him into a kiss.

It wasn’t like their first kiss, all passion and heat. This kiss was gentle. A kiss intended to soothe – to calm. A kiss for someone who needed to stop thinking. A kiss which said, _I love you, but be quiet now_.

Dirk was certainly not going to complain about that.

At least, until Todd pulled back, and Dirk opened his eyes to see that Todd had gotten shorter. No – Dirk had gotten taller.

Oh, rats, he was floating again. Todd stared up at him with disbelieving eyes. The ceiling bumped into Dirk’s shoulders a little painfully – he really wasn’t paying much attention to the height.

But kissing Todd had put Dirk into such a good mood that he couldn’t actually figure out how he’d ever be able to touch the ground again. _Oh, I kissed Todd_ , he thought, and was about three seconds from bursting through the ceiling when Todd finally gathered up his senses enough to speak.

“Dirk!” Todd seemed torn between taking offense and laughing at him. “What the _hell_ , get down!”

“Can't,” Dirk sighed, smiling in a manner that was probably coming off as quite dreamy. “Cute boy kissed me.”

“Okay, well, that’s – that's adorable, actually.” Todd’s face was doing that thing it did sometimes, when he was trying to repress affection. Dirk adored that look. Even when Todd tried very hard – as he was just then – to hide his smile. “But – please get down? Or I won't be able to kiss you again.”

Dirk felt his eyes widen. “Oh!”

The thought of never kissing Todd again was enough to make him drop quite suddenly, but luckily, Todd was there to slow his descent. Or, rather – Todd was there to break his fall. Which was how they ended up in a pile of limbs in the middle of the hallway.

“Ow,” Todd wheezed.

Dirk propped himself up a bit. He had recovered from the initial terror of being thrown bodily into a universe in which Todd would never kiss him again, and was already starting to drift up and off again, so he anchored himself by linking his hands around Todd’s waist, behind his back. Todd’s upper half was pulled upwards into a sitting position by Dirk’s tight grip, and so they formed a strange little tangle on the hallway floor, Dirk in Todd’s lap, Todd looking amused.

“Hello,” Dirk said, trying not to look off-putting.

“Hi.” Todd smiled. A proper one, this time. “So, um – you – you were saying, uh, something about being … in love with me?”

Though Todd was still smiling, there was still a flash, almost invisible to the undiscerning gaze, of uncertainty in his eyes. Dirk felt a pang of something in his heart – a familiar sensation, one he’d had many times before during those few, terrible occasions of harm coming to Todd.

“Yes! That was what I said, definitely, yes,” Dirk said hastily, desperate to reassure him.

“So it’s okay, then?”

Dirk blinked, bemused. “What is?”

“That I love you back.”

Dirk looked at Todd and realised, for the first time, what a certain Slavic friend of his had really meant about trust. Not just about Dirk needing to put his faith in something other than the Universe – he already knew that bit – but that such faith could be rewarded. That it went both ways.

Todd was trusting him, too.

More than the Universe. More than anything.

“Yes.” Dirk smiled. “Of course it is, you – _ridiculous_ –”

And then, of course, he couldn’t help himself. Todd was laughing, looking a little delirious – well, they _were_ still in the middle of a case, and had just run away from murderous historical reenactors, who quite possibly were still coming after them even as they spoke – but it didn’t matter in that moment, because the next thing Dirk knew, they were flying, the world turning upside down as they kissed, and kissed again.

**_June, 2019_ **

Many times throughout his life, Dirk had thought of falling in love as a process that had much in common with his experience of flying. This was because, in both his aeronautical and romantic lives, he was prone to an inevitable plummeting towards certain doom. The crash was always certain, when Dirk flew, or when he loved – at some point he would remember that he could not _be_ loved, or could not _remain_ happy, and down he would go, somehow still surprised after all this time.

But _being_ in love, oh. That felt like floating. Hovering just above the ground, certain in the knowledge that even if he fell, it wouldn’t be far, and there would always be someone to catch him. Being in love was very different from falling in love – it was secure, ever-present, the promise of safety. It wasn’t much of a process at all, really. It simply was.

That said, this particular endeavour was something Dirk was fully prepared to blame Todd for.

“What if I drop you?”

“You’re not gonna drop me,” Todd insisted.

“I am. I absolutely am. And then I’ll fall, and we’ll both crash into the ocean and die, and then Farah will rescue us both and kill us again.”

“No, I won’t,” Farah insisted. “I – I mean, the killing part. I am here to rescue you both, should the need arise, and besides – that’s what the parachutes are for.”

“See?” Todd squeezed Dirk’s hand. A gentle wave rocked the boat they were standing on, causing Dirk to cling onto Todd’s arm.

“Look, I’m gonna be down here the whole time,” Farah said, attempting to reassure Dirk. She slapped a hand against the rudder. “Wherever you end up, I can follow.”

“Yeah,” Todd added. “We’ve gone over the plan, what, ten times?”

“Twenty times,” Farah supplied helpfully. 

“And you said yourself – you want to know how high you can go.”

“Aha, yes, well, I may have said that at some point, but you know, I’m infamously changeable, there isn’t a single person who’d tell you, _Dirk Gently knows what he’s doing and he’s ready to go_ –”

“Dirk,” Todd said, grabbing his shoulders. “You know what you’re doing. And _we’re_ ready to go.”

“We, um, also only have six hours with this boat, so – now or never,” Farah added.

Dirk looked into Todd’s eyes. There wasn’t a trace of uncertainty in them.

He reached up and pulled Todd’s hands into his own, grasping them tightly. Todd and Farah were right. This had all been his idea – although he hadn’t expected them to facilitate it. Tossing out a line about not knowing how high it was possible for him to go and finally being free from scientists who’d like to test that theory for themselves was just something Dirk had _said_. Dirk said and did a lot of things without thinking. Difference was that now he had friends to listen or join in.

On this occasion they’d done both. Todd had hired a boat and parachutes, Farah had renewed her sailing licence, and the next thing Dirk knew, the three of them had sailed out to international waters just so he’d be able to try something he’d off-handedly mentioned once while the three of them had been stuck inside a storage locker full of plastic Buddhas.

That this was something he never thought he’d be able to do without being locked up by Blackwing again might have added to the depth of love he was feeling for Farah and Todd.

“All right. Sorry, yes – right. Okay.” Dirk felt a little sheepish at having let his fear get the better of him. “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Todd grinned. Behind him, Farah raised her eyebrows, clearly mentally preparing to enact their plan.

Dirk didn’t answer. The force of Todd’s grin was more than enough for his feet to leave the deck. He pulled Todd into the air with him, leaving the earth behind – this time, with someone he loved at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Detailed content warnings:
> 
> Dirk's mother is depicted as being emotionally abusive and neglectful. She never physically abuses him, however, there are references to her taking out anger on him, leaving him alone for long periods of time, and blaming him for things going wrong in their lives. If you wish to avoid these scenes, you can skip "November, 1987," and "September, 1985."
> 
> Dirk's time at Blackwing is also depicted in this story. If you wish to avoid this scene, you can skip "May, 1999." 
> 
> One scene is instrumental to the story, however, it contains references to Mr. Priest threatening Dirk with a gun as a child. On top of this, Riggins is shown explicitely manipulating and emotionally abusing Dirk. This scene may appear at first to reference Dirk trying to escape Blackwing via suicide, however this is not the case - I only mention it just in case this is a potential trigger; to be clear Dirk is _not_ attempting suicide. "March, 1991," is the scene in question, but as a significant plot development takes place in this chapter, it may be best to at least skim read - I leave it to your discretion, don't force yourself to read anything you're not comfortable with!
> 
> Finally, references are made to a toxic relationship that Dirk had in his early twenties with another young man who abused him. This is not shown in detail. Anything referencing "David" can be skipped.
> 
> MASSIVE thanks must go to my beta readers. As ever, my love [teacupsandcyanide](https://teacupsandcyanide.tumblr.com/) was instrumental in helping me write this, but I must also thank the inimitable [flailfail](https://flailfail.tumblr.com/) for all her help and cheerleading, and being so gentle with my poor ego! The three of us came up with the idea for this fic together one night in the group chat, and I'm honoured that they allowed me to turn it into this. <3
> 
> I have two sequels planned for this fic, one somewhat smutty, and the other a missing scene that I'm curious to see if anyone will notice was missing!! Please comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> [My Tumblr.](https://gallantrejoinder.tumblr.com/)
> 
> PS: bookwhimses said that the reference to Dirk walking on the ceiling post reveal happens the first time they all get Rosé drunk, but he's adament that _they're_ the ones on the ceiling, not him!


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